


King of the West

by Noble_Lady_of_Magvel



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noble_Lady_of_Magvel/pseuds/Noble_Lady_of_Magvel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things Katniss didn't know about President Snow. More behind the man who seemed so evil in her eyes. MagsxSnow interaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	King of the West

_1\. He was born prematurely._

* * *

Across the glass wall of the incubator a young father reached a single finger inside to stroke his son's wan face. He watched his tiny newborn chest move up and down, attached to so many tubes and beeping machines that he seemed to be floating in his own little world.

_He's so small, he shouldn't be this small,_ the father thought frantically.

And while he was fretting the worst possible thing happened. The power went out. Just for one second. Then another. The young father felt sweat bead on his forehead. Every second without power meant a second his son wasn't breathing. His hands shook and he held his breath to feel what Coriolanus was going through, then mercifully, the emergency generators switched on and the hospital buzzed back to life.

"Well that's that," a doctor muttered darkly as he hurried by, "District Five's joined the rebellion."

The young father frowned and he strode away with a swish of his long jacket. He walked out of the hospital without a word, thinking that he would come back, that he would have all the time in the world to be a father later. He thought that he would come back and pick up his son, take him home where he and his wife would love him, and he would protect Coriolanus from the world's cruelties as a father should.

_But he didn't._

* * *

_2\. He was raised by his grandparents._

* * *

Eight years later Cori Snow pulled the heavy door to his house open. "I'm home," he called. The house was silent as the straps of his backpack slipped off his shoulders onto the floor. Of course, his grandparents were busy sitting on some council meeting as always, leaving a was dark and unwelcoming house.

Dinner was always a quiet affair, three microwaved plates in front of the television in case there was a mandatory broadcast. Cori frowned and put his fork down. "Why did mom and dad have to die?"

"We went through this before, your parents were heroes Cori," his grandmother said gently, "they gave up their lives to stop the rebels and save the Capitol. There are stone statues of them in city circle, they're even wearing crowns like your father had wanted so much when he was young."

He bowed his head and pushed his plate away. "But what about me? A stone face can't say 'welcome home' or 'how was school today', instead of being heroes in stone they should have survived, so they could be here for me when I need them."

His grandparents exchanged sad glances and his grandfather looked like he was about to say something when the television suddenly switched on.

"Ah, the mandatory broadcast."

They stopped what they were doing to watch the broadcast of that year's Hunger Games.

The boy from District One with golden blonde hair and steely-green eyes held up his hands in surrender while his nearly-identical partner huddled behind him. "We don't want any trouble," he said cautiously to the pair from District Nine.

"We don't want to play either. We'll walk this way, you walk that way, and it'll be like we never met, okay?"

The tributes turned on their heels and marched away from each other, their steps slow and sluggish as fatigue and hunger crept in.

"How long will the president let this farce continue?" Cori's grandmother grumbled. "If the kids don't want to kill each other, they won't."

Cori knew his grandparents had voted no when the council was discussing the Hunger Games. He supposed his parents would have voted no too if they hadn't died. Since the Hunger Games had only passed by one vote, they wouldn't exist if his parents had survived, but then again, he thought with a shiver, maybe the Capitol wouldn't exist too.

"The president will get bored of his little game soon enough," his grandfather said, more to himself than anything.

_But he didn't._

* * *

_3\. He favourite victor was Mags._

* * *

Somewhere along the line the tributes realized that the Hunger Games were serious, that they had to play their game or die. Somewhere along the line the most scared and desperate boys and girls decided to play. The moment the first tribute willingly raised his knife against another, splattering the cameras red, the country knew that the Hunger Games would go on.

Every year since he could remember, Cori let himself have one tribute that he secretly cheered for. And every year they had died. Until Mags. He couldn't put it in words but there was something striking about her that tugged in his chest, as if she was a friend from another life.

But, as he watched the television screen with despair, she was going to die and he was never going know her.

But she didn't. Cori kept up with the Games obsessively, sneaking out of his room when his grandparents were asleep to turn on the television for any update on her condition. As each day passed he grew more and more hopeful. She was no killer but she was clever, weaving bowls from grass to catch rainwater and unravelling one of her socks for fishing line. When it came down to the finale, her and the big burly boy from Ten, Cori could barely watch. But clever Mags had lashed her knife to a branch with a bloodstained strip ripped from her shirt, and with the longer reach of her makeshift spear she was able to skewer her opponent before he could make his own attack. And Cori rejoiced.

He got to meet her too, she took a shipping barge back to District Four instead of the usual train and Cori, well-connected through his grandparents was given permission to board as well.

"Hello," he chirped to the older girl.

"Hello," she said glumly.

He took a deep breath, trembling with excitement and stars in his eyes at meeting his first victor.

"I'm Coriolanus, but all my friends call me Cori. I'm a big fan of your Games, I was hoping from the beginning that you would win and can I please have your autograph?"

He brandished a pen and notebook at her.

"I suppose so," she said dully as she scrawled her name, ending with a messy looping S at the end of Mags.

Cori happily stored his pen and notebook back in his bag and plopped down on the seat next to her uninvited.

"So tell me more about yourself," he demanded, with all the rapt attention and eagerness of a schoolboy meeting a celebrity.

Mags closed her eyes as if she wished he would rather go away and sighed. "Um, well, my name is Mags, I'm fifteen, and my favourite food is baked salmon."

Cori nodded vigorously. "Fascinating. What's it like in District Four?"

"You mean compared to the Capitol? Well the buildings aren't nearly as nice for one. During the rebellion we were bombed so heavily that there are still buildings that are nothing more than smouldering ash and rubble."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "But the Capitol's so clean and perfect, it's like it was untouched by the war, I don't think the rebels even managed to infiltrate the mountain borders." There was more than a little reproach in her voice.

"No, they didn't. But we were still affected by the rebels too. When District Five joined the rebellion, the power went out. I was still a baby back then, and I was dependent on the machines in the NICU to keep me alive. Not that I remember, my grandparents told me," he said ruefully.

"I remember a little about the rebellion," she confessed, hugging her knees to her chest. "I remember the day the District Six rebels dropped bombs on us. Everything was on fire, it was so hot I thought my skin was melting. I lost my mother and I started crying in the middle of the street, but then I felt this man put his arms around me, and he carried me to my mother. The memory is hazy but I remember the man had bronze hair, and when he picked me up and I saw his face I thought he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen." She shivered and Cori felt his heart twist.

"I hate the rebels," he declared suddenly. "They killed my parents, they almost killed you and me too."

"So punish them, not us!" Mags declared. "District Four was loyal to the Capitol, well mostly, but we still lose two people every year for something we didn't even have a part of. Cori, can you..." she hesitated. "Can you stop the Hunger Games?"

"I'll try," he promised. "Some of my friends, they don't like the Hunger Games either. Maybe when we're older we can do something. But no matter what I'll look after you and keep you safe, I promise."

_But he didn't._

* * *

_4\. His first poisoning was an accident._

* * *

It was some party, he couldn't remember what for. All he could remember that it was one of those boring ones where the adults stood around discussing politics or waltzing to dull music. Cori had no interest for either so he had mainly hung around the buffet tables with his friends.

He bit into the crunchy shell of a raspberry dark chocolate macaroon and licked the rich ganache from his lips. Yum.

"Can I have one?" Giovanni Randell asked.

Cori nodded and held out the plate to him. Everybody adored Gio, who was handsome and popular and always best dressed. One day he would be the president, everybody said.

And he would stop the Hunger Games, Gio had said privately. He played the part of fanatic well enough, betting on a winner and cheering at every kill but his closest friends knew what he thought of them, and that he would stop them once he was old enough.

Everybody knew he would, it would just be a matter of time until Gio was president, and Cori was quite happy being in his shadow, supporting the rising fame of his friend. He was always on the quiet side, small and sickly too and enjoyed relying on someone else to be in the spotlight.

But he hasn't expected Gio to turn blue and start gasping for air and clawing at his throat after a single bite.

Cori felt himself go numb and his mind blank as he watched his friend go into convulsions.

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

It turned out that the macaroons had been accidentally contaminated with peanut oil which Gio was deathly allergic too. Everybody blamed the pastry chef and the caterers, but for some reason nobody blamed thirteen-year-old Cori who felt the guiltiest of all.

Cori visited his friend every day in the hospital, and as he watched him become weaker and weaker and slowly slip away he frantically held onto the thread of hope that Gio would pull out of his coma.

He would open his eyes one day, smile with that lopsided smirk that all the girls loved and say "can't get rid of me that easy eh Cori?" And then he would come back to school, graduate with full honours, and one day rise all the way to the top and become president. Cori would watch Gio grow into an even more handsome charismatic man, win the hearts of a nation, strike down the Hunger Games, and the Capitol wouldn't give it another thought because they loved him so much.

_But he didn't._

* * *

_5._   _His_ _second was to save District 12._

* * *

Without Gio, all of their friends started pinning all their hopes on Cori. He was the last scion of the famous Snows who had once ruled the Capitol, surely his own family name would bring him far in politics. He had never wanted the attention, he was still young, barely out of university and just an assistant to some District representative, and a minor one at that. Doing nothing more glamorous than fetching coffee and making sure the inkwells were always full but now people called him Mr. Snow instead of Cori, even though they looked right through him and treated him as if he was beneath their attention.

_Shhhhffff_

A sheaf of papers came tumbling down and Cori crawled under the heavy mahogany desk to pick them up. Just then, the door opened and two men strode in, unaware of him under the desk.

He peeped from under the crack in the bottom to see their shoes and pants but couldn't tell who they were until they began to speak.

It was his boss and the president.

"What is the purpose of District 12 anyway? District 5 produces enough power trice over for the entire country. The only thing coal's good for is fueling the antiquated trains in Eight and Eleven and even then, they could easily be replaced by the high-speed magnet trains. Twelve has outlived their usefulness." The old president drawled.

"What do you propose?" The District 12 representative asked nervously.

"Annihilate them, we don't need them anymore," he said casually.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Make it look like an accident, or don't. I don't care."

_The Mad President,_ Cori thought frantically.  _He just... he just ordered a genocide and treated it like it was nothing!_

One set of footsteps padded away and the door shut.

When Cori heard the remaining man collapse into the armchair in shock he crawled out from under the desk.

"You heard the president's orders eh?" his boss asked.

Cori nodded mutely.

"He's mad, just mad," he muttered. "And everybody's too scared to stand up to him. Including me." He cradled his head in his hands, no doubt thinking of the loss of his position with the loss of an entire District.

"We have to do something," Cori muttered, "thousands of people will die if we don't." His heart twisted at the thought of the loss of so many innocent civilians. But what could he do?

Later he discussed the situation with his friends, and the solution became clear when that year's Hunger Games mandatory broadcast switched on and the familiar drone of the Treaty of Treason was recited. Once again they were reminded of the sacrifice of a very few in order to protect many, all in the name of the greater good. He thought about the one bitter old man nearing the end of his life anyway, knew what he had to do.

It was so easy he didn't know what he was so worried about. The long council meetings made everyone thirsty and when Cori brought the refreshments they ordered, everybody received them gratefully. His heart pounded against his chest as he waited for someone to call him out any second, but nobody did. The president drained his cup like usual, and nobody commented otherwise. It was so easy he wondered why nobody had thought of it before. They all finished up the meeting, and went home.

"Mr. Snow, a word?"

Cori, who was collecting the abandoned cups stopped in his tracks, feeling all the blood drain from his face.

"Y-yes Mr. President?" He tried to force himself to turn around but couldn't, frozen in place.

"Were you aware that I ordered the genocide of the entire District 12?" His voice was chillingly calm.

"Y-yes sir. Mr. Braccachus told me."

"And I suppose that's why you poisoned my coffee. Turn around and face me," he demanded.

Cori stiffly turned around, forcing himself to lift his gaze to the other man's face. He desperately tried to act natural but was afraid his face betrayed him.

"You think I'm a monster don't you?" the Mad President laughed. "I can see it, you look at me with such disdain, but where were you when they were turning me into one?" He laughed and laughed until blood ran out his nose and down the corners of his mouth.

Cori shivered and felt his goes curl, certain that he was going to die.

But the Mad President didn't die. The feeble man was hospitalized, unable to speak or communicate and seemed to retreat into the shadows. The race for presidency began, and any orders he may have made before were long forgotten.

When the president finally regained use of his vocal cords he summoned Cori to his bedside.

"You-you were willing to kill me to save the most pathetic District in the country?" he rasped.

Cori stood stock-still, wondering if it was a trap.

The president's pale lips cracked into a smile. "The president our country need is a man like you. Let me teach you, let me guide you, and we'll keep Panem safe."

His eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath. "Then stop the Hunger Games."

The older man chuckled. "That'll be your decision to make Mr. Snow, but when it comes time I'm sure you'll realize how foolhardy that would be."

Cori vowed that he would never become like the Mad President, but then That Great Bad Thing happened, and nobody, not his father, his grandparents, nor Gio was there to save him.

As time went by Cori grew up and became Coriolanus. He never stopped hating the Hunger Games, but with a heavy heart knew they had to continue. He watched the Games grimly every year, taking no pleasure in their cruelty but knowing that the president couldn't show weakness. He must be strong and stern, unyielding like the mountains that protect the Capitol.

Standing on the balcony of the president's mansion, he looked off in the distance. Everything, as far as what he could see and beyond was his kingdom.

And a king doesn't wear a crown, a king protects his country.

**_And that's all that she wrote..._ **

* * *

**A/N Can you guess who the bronze-haired man who saved Mags was? XD want to read the Mad President's story and how he turned into a monster? Click the follow author to be alerted to Hunger Games:Origins.**


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